No One Likes a Riches to Riches Story
by shampoosuicide
Summary: AU. What if Rachel had initially been a part of Vocal Adrenaline? Junior year, her and her Dad's move to McKinley's school district and now she must come to terms with no longer being a part of the best of the best.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee, Rachel Berry, Jesse St. James, etc. etc.

**Summary:** AU. What if Rachel had initially been a part of Vocal Adrenaline? Junior year, her and her Dad's move to McKinley's school district and now she must come to terms with no longer being a part of the best of the best.

**Author's Note:** For convenience sake, I made Jesse and Rachel the same age.

**Prologue**

Rachel Berry was not used to many injustices in this world. As someone who was a.) immensely talented, b.) more than passably pretty, and because of those first two things, c.) extremely popular, there was very little that couldn't or wouldn't happen for her. That was, until the other night. She wasn't even a week into her Junior Year at Carmel High, when her fathers had sat her down and explained to her, too excitedly she thought, that they had found their dream house. Six months earlier, her father, Leroy, had gotten transferred and promoted to the Lima, Ohio office. Which was gross, but since he commuted it did not affect Rachel personally. However, now it did because her fathers had found their perfect, beautiful house in Lima, Ohio. The sister in law of Leroy's boss had just put it on the market, which is how he had heard of it. Apparently her fathers, the _betrayers_, had checked out the house, _without her_, and had fallen in love.

It was so unfair, and no matter how prettily she pouted, they would not budge. She brought up her dreams, and what a detriment it would be to go to McKinley High School, where the Glee club has so embarrassed themselves horribly the previous year at their Sectionals, rather than Carmel High School, where she had already twice been a national champion thanks to Vocal Adrenaline. They had countered with saying that they had always supported, encouraged and financed her dreams and it was time for some of their own to come true. Not only that, but with her lessons, her talent, and her involvement in community theatre that there was no way she wasn't stepping off the plane from Ohio and stepping right onto the Great White Way, no matter what high school she went to.

This argument had gone on for a while. It would have gone on longer, but Rachel knew the importance of vocal preservation and could not argue or scream or cry for as long as she'd like to. She had brought up the fact that her and Jesse St. James were in _competition_ and if he were at Carmel while she was stuck in some third world Glee club, he would win despite the fact that she had far more talent than him. This caused her fathers to exchange a look that she didn't necessarily like. Finally, she stated that Shelby would never stand for her transfer, causing a dark look to pass over her fathers' faces and they said flatly that Shelby would just have to deal.

And deal with it, Shelby had. Remarkably well. It was rather insulting, if Rachel did say so. She was, without a doubt, their strongest female vocalist and Shelby acted as though she was losing a clumsy alternate. She was co-captain of Vocal Adrenaline and she mattered, damn it. Jesse, of course, had stuck his hand out, shaken hers, and said it had been a pleasure performing with her all these years but he could no longer acknowledge her existence now that she would soon be an enemy. She still wasn't entirely convinced that he hadn't been serious.

Despite the fact that Jesse lived to torture, tease and torment her, he was probably the closest thing to a best friend she had. It didn't sound pretty, but it meant the world to her. Of course they were competitive, they were both brilliant. No one understood each other better than the two of them did. She equally enjoyed baiting him, there would probably be no one at McKinley that was worth challenging or could challenge her as Jesse St. James could.

The only problem with Jesse St. James was that he was Shelby's favorite. It wasn't the nature of their competitive friendship where she was trying to push off any losses she may have suffered on the excuse of Jesse being the coach's pet, but it was in the obvious way. Shelby adored Jesse. Rarely did a criticism come out of her mouth and in his direction. Jesse was the one they were all to emulate, look to in matters of performance, singing, and anything else on the table. In comparison she was overly harsh towards Rachel. Nothing was ever good enough, emotive enough, etc etc. She still gave Rachel solos, but she felt she had to earn them whereas Jesse was simply handed them. Sometimes Rachel liked to think it was because she had the most potential, and so Shelby drove her to better herself so she could shine the brightest. However Shelby's seemingly calm acceptance of the changing of Rachel's school district seemed to bring reality back to the surface.

Rachel had tried. Shelby wasn't the most ethical person in the world, you didn't win as many times and as well as she did without getting dirty. She had talked to Shelby, begged and pleaded with her to make up a fake relative for her to have residence with in the district so she could remain at Carmel and in Vocal Adrenaline. Shelby had sighed and told her that she could not do that and to respect her fathers' plans.

She had turned to Jesse for help. At the very least, Jesse's desire to win would make him want to keep her around. She knew who was next in line after her, and Rachel was far superior. Jesse, however, was unhelpful. Instead, he kept her updated on the failings and follies of McKinley's Glee club. He would sit next to her in the cafeteria, in class, anywhere else that she could sit, he would sit next to and whisper horror stories of how the lead male vocalist couldn't dance and if there was a prize for most awkward show choir performance, they would win it every time. How their coach believed in _equality_ of all things and if she joined them, she would have to share solos with less talented girls. Sure, she had to fight for her top spot in Vocal Adrenaline, and every day had been a well fought battle but it was a challenge and she loved it and it made her strive to be a better performer. To have to fight for a top spot because the person in charge believed that everyone should be given their own turn out of fairness? Unimaginable.

In the end, though, she was a professional. It was only expected to be that she would be faced with obstacles to overcome. No one liked a riches to riches story, rather they'd thrive in a little suffering on the way to the top. This was her suffering, and she would overcome it gracefully. Later, when she would be on Broadway and being interviewed she could reflect on this time and talk about how it made her a stronger person, a more driven person. Or so she kept telling herself. She also told herself that Jesse was just psyching her out. That's what they did in Vocal Adrenaline. They were just nervous that she would join this little Glee club and kick their ass.

As it happened, it turned out that everything Jesse had told her about McKinley was an understatement and she was not at all prepared for the reality that faced her when she first stepped foot into that school.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the favorites, story alerts and reviews You guys are awesome!

McKinley was a mess. There seemed to be sticky messes on the floor everywhere Rachel stepped. Sports mattered here, too, and it was such a foreign concept to her. She would be hard pressed to remember the name of Carmel's mascot, let alone what sports maybe have existed at her previous high school. She had probably seen more of McKinley in the past few hours than she had ever seen of Carmel. She had gone to classes, most of the time anyway, certainly. She knew the auditorium at Carmel better than she knew her own bedroom, most definitely. She could not tell you the color of the lockers there or what the floor tiles had looked like.

She had spent the day staring at floor tiles. This wasn't out of apprehension or shyness, it was mostly out of boredom. In her classes, she spent most of the time texting rehearsal schedules and song choices with her teammates. She was new, so hardly anyone spoke to her. Instead, they openly sized her up, trying to determine her status. It had been easy at Carmel, she had stepped onto that stage and opened her mouth and had become instantly popular. McKinley didn't exactly have the best reputation regarding their arts programs. So she stared at the floor tiles, sang songs in her head, counted the minutes until the last bell, and at one point had even texted Jesse. His response had been instantaneous: _I didn't realize ghosts had cell phones_. Rachel had sighed and put away her phone for the day. He was a jackass, but she had never expected anything else from him. She would deal with him later.

By the last bell, it had been decided. She could not spend the next two years in such a boring way. She needed performing arts in her school. She needed show choir. She could do this. She was Rachel Berry, two-time national champion. If Vocal Adrenaline didn't need her to win, then she certainly didn't need them to win either. She would build McKinley's club up from the ground. It was certainly within her abilities. It's an exercise in her ability to lead and to work with difficult or lazy people. She assumes they're lazy if Vocal Adrenaline doesn't even consider them competition.

The choir room was bright and there were a mess of chairs thrown together as a group of a dozen or so sat around. All attention went on her as the door shut with a thud. Well, that was to be expected. Rachel Berry would draw all the attention when she walked into a room. Glad to see some things wouldn't suffer while she was stuck here.

"Mr. Schue," one of the skinnier boys in the back row of chairs raised his hand. She was nearly positive he had been in her English class and that his name was Kurt. He didn't wait for Mr. Schue to respond, "I have my strong objections about this."

The teacher looked confused. "You have an objection to songs about heartbreak?"

"No," Kurt responded firmly. "To her." He gestured towards Rachel.

That just made the attention even more focused on her. What a welcome.

"Kurt," Mr. Schue reprimanded. So she had been right. "Don't be rude."

A preppy looking boy spoke up, "Who is she?"

That was her cue. She always knew her cues well. "Hi," she put on her best show face. "I'm Rachel Berry…"

"Star of Vocal Adrenaline," Kurt finished for her, looking at his nails as if he was bored of her. Had figured her out already.

Now everyone was exchanging looks and whispering. She should be used to this, but no one dared to openly gossip about a member of Vocal Adrenaline where they could see at Carmel High.

"I'm not surprised that my reputation precedes me," Rachel responded, with a little shrug. "Even though that information is now, unfortunately false, and I am no longer eligible to be in Vocal Adrenaline." Was anyone following this at all? She was in classes with at least half these people earlier in the day. "My dads and I Just moved to Lima so now I'm here."

The black girl that was sitting next to Kurt shook her head. "I don't think so. Mr. Schue, I'm smelling a trap."

Really? Vocal Adrenaline had been more welcoming and she had endured almost five weeks of humiliating hazing before she was truly a member of that group.

The boy with the Mohawk who sat in the top corner, slightly away from everyone else, nodded in agreement. "She's a spy, Schue."

Rachel was a terrible one if she was. Coming as her oh-so-recognizable self and confirming she had been a part of Vocal Adrenaline? Worst cover ever.

The club started talking amongst themselves, causing Mr. Schue to whistle. "Guys, guys, come on." The talking went down to a low murmur.

Shelby would have never stood for any of this.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel spoke up, coming further into the room and standing center stage. "If I may?" He nodded his assent. "I understand your concerns." She did. No one got to the top without the vindictive ruthlessness that Vocal Adrenaline was now infamous for. "However, think logically for a moment. Do you really think that Shelby Corcoran would allow her premier talent to "transfer" to another school and take you down instead of being in rehearsals?"

They had people for that sort of thing when it applied. New Directions wasn't a blip on Vocal Adrenaline's radar, however. It would probably be mean to point that out, thought it may become necessary.

"She has a point," Mr. Schue announced before anyone else could respond. "We are always looking for new members." Well, obviously, _look at them_. "So, of course, Rachel may audition…" He looked over at her. "I assume that's what you're here for?"

She nodded, "I have prepared _Pinball Wizard_ from The Who's **Tommy**."

She had spent all weekend preparing and deciding on a song. This seemed like a natural pick. New Directions appeared to have a love of classic rock and underdogs. Plus, she didn't want to pull out anything too impressive and shatter any sort of self-esteem her new classmates may have. Some people just couldn't handle knowing there were such talented people out there.

At least, that's what she heard. She had been rather well protected at Carmel. She would have to stop comparing the two. She attended McKinley now.

When she finished, Rachel sank into a slight curtsy. She was good and she knew it.

"_Shit_," said a blond boy, earning a reproachful look from the teacher. "We might have a chance."

Kurt was shaking his head, "I don't trust her."

"We allow everyone to join that wants to, Kurt," Mr. Schue reminded the student. Well, that sounded positively horrifying. "Welcome to New Directions, Rachel."

The preppy boy from earlier spoke up again. "I think what Kurt's saying is that we should exercise caution."

The black girl was nodding. "I know they say to never look a gift horse in the mouth, but they also say if it's too good to be true, then it probably is."

A Latina girl in the back, who had been filing her nails the entire time, spoke up. "Spy."

Rachel shrugged. This was the most ridiculous audition she had ever been in, and she had been in some rather ridiculous auditions throughout her career. "I get it. You don't want me because I'm too talented." She gave them her best show face. "I wish you best of luck on your future endeavors. Though I do use that last word as loosely as possible."

"Rachel…" Mr. Schue began but she shrugged him off.

"I don't want to be anywhere where my talent isn't properly appreciated," She told him. It was true. There was always community theatre and her voice lessons. It would just be nice to have somewhere to go in this school that could actually be worth going to.

She turned around on her heel and stomped out of the choir room, almost walking into a well-built football player as she did so.

He looked at her, and at the room she just came from, and asked. "Did you just come from Glee Club."

"If you can call it that," she responded, only to be met with a full on slushie to the face.

What the fuck? She reflectively reached into her purse and did the only thing she could think of: she sprayed her attacker with a can of hairspray, causing him to shriek.

She ignored the shrieking, and the wet sticky feel of the slushie and got out her cell phone and sent the text that he could not possibly ignore: _I just got slushied_.

* * *

><p>He hadn't ignored it. After a meeting with the principal and her fathers, Rachel had gotten home, taken a shower to get the awful blue slushie off her skin and into clean clothes. When she walked into the kitchen she saw Jesse sitting on her counter, eating an apple and with a cup of tea in his hands. He kicked out the chair behind him, and she sat down.<p>

Jesse looked at her with an amused expression for several long moments before he deigned to speak. "I was hoping to come here and still find you covered in slushie." He took a sip of his tea. "Mostly because I'm not quite sure what a slushie is."

Rachel bypassed giving him a definition, waving it off. "It was fucking terrible, Jess."

He reached over to a mug sitting beside him, and handed it to her. "Throat coat?"

She nodded and took the tea from him. This used to be their pre-rehearsal ritual. "On the plus side, I almost got kicked out on my first day which could have only been an improvement."

Jesse smirked over his cup. "Rachel Berry, badass? Tell me how this happened."

"I went to the worst audition in my life," she explained. "They didn't want me because I was too talented." Jesse nodded sympathetically. He would understand. "It makes me suspicious, they think I'm a spy."

"What's there to spy on?" It was a rhetorical, sarcastic question that made her smile. It was exactly the question she had.

"So naturally I left," She smoothed out her skirt as she said this, and then took a sip of her tea. "I cannot be anywhere where my talent will go unappreciated." Naturally. "I left only to be attacked by this slushie by some _jock_. I did what any sensible person would do were they so unexpectedly attacked, I defended myself."

"Did you challenge him to a sing off?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. That was only appropriate when issues between members of Vocal Adrenaline arose. "I grabbed my hairspray and sprayed him. I didn't know what else he was going to try." Plus, it was all she had on her to defend herself with. "I was then ushered into the principal's office."

It was a ridiculous scenario. It had been her, the jock, the principal and for some inexplicable reason, the cheerleading coach. From what Rachel could observe in the chaos was that slushieing classmates was perfect acceptable, especially if they were associated with the Glee club, but retaliation with hairspray was assault. Finally, the parents arrived and once the school and the jock's parents realized they'd be dealing with her gay dads, they backed down quickly. No one wanted to get entangled in litigation with gay people. It just got messy quick and would make the school look bad. They were doing a fantastic enough job of that already without anyone else's help.

In the end they both apologized, and the jock promised to never slushie her again. Rachel refused to make a promise because, as she pointed out, if she were attacked, she would naturally need to defend herself. This was not at all a fantastic way to begin a new school. She had pointed this out to her fathers and they had just kissed her forehead and said to try, please _try_, to give it a chance with an open mind before making any rash decisions. And yes, if such events as slushies being thrown at her kept occurring they would look into other schools for her.

That was good enough. For now.

"I'm so proud of you, Berry," Jesse said tapping her on the nose. "If only you were so awesome at Carmel."

She reached over and smacked him on the shin. "Tell me everything that's happened since I've left." Rachel immediately shook her head, changing her mind. "No, don't tell me anything I'll get terribly jealous and green is an awful color on me."

Jesse laughed. "I must admit I'm glad you're not joining the glee club, I'd hate to consider them competition." He gave a shudder to emphasize his point.

"I'm not glad, I had plans," she informed him.

He arched an eyebrow at that. He knew her too well. "Were you going to build them from the ground up and be one of those uplifting Disney movies?"

Rachel nodded her head. There was no use denying it. "I would be brilliant at it."

He considered her for a moment. "That you would be." He drained the rest of his mug, and leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I have to get back to rehearsal, Emilio Estevez."

"Quack," She responded. "Try to make sure you guys are just a little bit terrible without me."

Jesse gave her his best show face. "Oh but we are!"

He was a liar, but she appreciated the lie at the moment. She watched the door as he opened and disappeared through it, before staring back down at her tea. It looked like any show choir practice she was going to get would be in the basement. She had known she was too good for New Directions, and today had done nothing but prove it.

She had to get back to Carmel.


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:** Again, thanks for all the reviews, alerts, favorites! This chapter should answer some of the questions asked.

Jesse St. James did not get called into any sort of office with any sort of frequency. The fact that he had arrived at his first period class, only to immediately be ushered out at the request of Shelby Corcoran and into her office. At first he thought it might be an impromptu Vocal Adrenaline rehearsal, but as he entered the office it was just him. Curious. It should probably be enough to make him nervous, but Jesse stopped getting nervous a long time ago.

Instead, he stretched out his legs, the tips of feet hitting against the bottom of the desk while he waited to be joined by Shelby. This was a power move, he was sure of it. He always observed and took notes on what she did. He had since he first met Shelby back in eighth grade, when she had recruited him and Rachel. They had been in the school play together, both leads of courses, and afterwards she had pulled both of them aside and told them about Carmel High's show choir. And what they had to do if they wanted to be apart of it.

Shelby was the closest thing to a star that Ohio had, and Jesse St. James wanted to be a star. It was only a matter of time until the student outshined the master, but until that time he observed, he took notes, he got better.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, Jesse," Shelby began as she walked into the office, and closed the door behind her.

"Well I know it's not about any flaws in my vocals," he responded as she took the seat behind the desk. "Or my dancing." Such flaws did not exist, he was sure of it. "So, am I to assume you summoned me for some sort of illicit affair?"

Shelby arched an eyebrow at that, and shook her head. "Please, I could chew you up and spit you back in less than a second." She wagged a finger at him. "And don't ever think those things don't need improving. Such arrogance leads to laziness, and I won't have that."

She looked like she was expecting a response, so he crossed his ankles and said, "Yes, ma'am."

"I know you're still friends with Rachel," Shelby announced.

Oh, well he supposed she should have expected this. Vocal Adrenaline was only so loyal as long as you remained in the pack. Leaving for any reason: death, sickness or parents, was considered the gravest betrayal.

"Well, that's a fanciful tale," Jesse drawled out the words, as though testing their potential. "Tell me another."

Shelby smirked at that. He was in checkmate. "Jesse, we both know you're a better actor and liar than that."

Well, he certainly liked to think so.

However, he did not respond to that, so she continued on. "I want you to be friends with Rachel."

Jesse tried not to react, but it was hard not to. Over the past two years or so, he could not remember any sort of partiality that Shelby had displayed towards Rachel.

His words were hesitant. "You do?"

"I do," she confirmed. "I need to know what she'd doing, what she is plotting." There really wasn't an answer for that. She was doing nothing, as her lame ass school seemed to prevent her from doing anything.

Jesse frowned. "Are you worried about New Directions?" He wasn't. Rachel couldn't carry an entire team, no matter how talented she was. She could maybe, just maybe, carry them through sectionals but nothing further than that.

"God, no," Shelby said. This was getting more cryptic for a second. "This is a personal favor to me, Jesse. If I tell you something, you can't tell anyone. _Especially_ Rachel."

Jesse leaned forward slightly, curiosity getting the better of him. It was almost like attending one of those murder-mystery dinners. "Yes?"

"Rachel's my daughter." She waved off any question that might follow _that_. "Details aren't important, but she can't know. Keep an eye on her, be friends with her still, and, also, make sure she doesn't become competition."

Well that was a vague and strange request. It was unlike Shelby to put him in such a precarious position. Without Rachel there, he was unarguably the star of Vocal Adrenaline. To encourage his friendship, if it must be labeled as such, with Rachel was akin to putting a loaded gun into a depressed person's hand. Were the other members to find out, he'd be the outcast. Cast as a person of suspicious loyalties.

Jesse knew this well. He had practically invented this mindset. When it had been anyone else, he had been ringleader. The only reason it had yet to come up was because Rachel had transferred to McKinley, of all places, and the only people that took McKinley serious were the ones in the cheerleading circuit.

"Why me?"

It was probably obvious. She had already informed him that she knew he still saw Rachel. Had seen Rachel _once_. He hadn't even meant to. He had sent the first text back because he had thought it was clever. Clever things should never be left unsaid. He had learned that from Oscar Wilde. The second, because she sounded so small in her text and that contradicted everything he knew about Rachel Berry. Big voice, big personality, big mouth, big ego. The only small thing about her was her structure. Plus, he honestly had no idea what being _slushied _meant and had to find out for himself.

It wasn't that Rachel Berry was his friend, because he didn't think he had any of those. He had classmates, colleagues and teammates. However, Rachel had been his equal and he was accustomed to treating her as such. Maybe in another's reality that made them friends.

It seemed as though Shelby knew all of his private thoughts, because she answered, "Because you care for each other." She held up a hand to stop him from responding. As if he had a response for that. No one had ever accused him of caring for another before, it was usually the opposite. And was shouted at him by his sister. "I've tried my best to keep you two separate. I've pitted you against each other in competition since the moment I met you two. Despite that, you take care of each other."

Jesse never really thought about it before. Rachel was his equal; it had just seemed natural to include her into things. And while yes, Shelby frequently made them compete against each other, they were competitive by nature and understood the thrill of challenge.

"You want me to make sure Rachel's not a threat?" This was the part of the request he could understand. "If you're her mother, why not just use that to keep her in the district?"

Shelby pressed her lips together. It wasn't a good question for him to have asked. "Her fathers don't like my style, and no longer wish to have me as her coach."

Jesse didn't understand that either.

She shook her head, the topic dropped. "Still be her friend, keep it a secret." She understood the innerworkings of Vocal Adrenaline. She was not one to keep a pretense of obliviousness. "I'll let you know if I need anything else, you'll let me know if I need to know anything."

Jesse nodded. There was never any option of saying no to Shelby. She was the ticket to success in this town, and there was little Jesse cared for more than success. The only part that was tricky was to continue to play a role he hadn't been aware that he had been playing to begin with.

He left the office, and left the school grounds to grab a tea from the Starbucks down the street and clear his head. School could obviously wait, but he needed to plan.

Without Shelby's interference, what would Jesse normally do? He thought for a moment, or maybe several moments, before taking out his cell phone and sending a message.

_Bikram Yoga, tomorrow after school? _


	4. Chapter Three

Yoga was always an invigorating exercise, leaving Rachel with a renewed clarity about her life. It would be so easy to let everything overwhelm her. The move, leaving Vocal Adrenaline, the rejection from the barely existing McKinley Glee Club, but no, she was Rachel Berry and she was going to be a star. High school was just a temporary phase that would not matter the moment she stepped foot in New York.

She had been explaining this to Jesse, as they sat down for a light dinner after they got out of yoga. Lima did not seem like a good place to do Bikram Yoga, so they had gone a few towns over. It went unsaid that Akron was out of the question. She may not be one of the enemies, given her nonstatus in New Directions, but she was no longer one of them. That was always the important thing. Vocal Adrenaline worked in binaries. You were in or you were out. You were good or you sucked. You were for them or you were against them. So on and so on.

"Mr. Shuester, that's the director," Rachel was informing him. "Kept me after Spanish class today to try and convince me that I should reconsider my decision to not join New Directions." He had apologized for the team's behavior and made the appropriate excuses. "But I reminded him that I would not join anything where I was so unwelcomed. I said that while I was destined to play many roles in my long and illustrious career, that 'victim' was reserved for in front of the camera or onstage only."

Except for when her fathers forced her to move over two hours away.

"Very commendable," Jesse remarked. He looked amused by her. He _always_ looked amused by her. Not quite laughing at her, she was rather certain, but something. Well, maybe not always. When they had met in elementary school, he had blurted out _Are you actually for real?_ To this day, Rachel was still unsure what he exactly meant by that. But he must have figured out the answer on his own, because shortly after that he just constantly wore this bemused expression around her.

"I think so," Rachel agreed with an assertive nod of her head. "I mean, this is high school, if I let them walk all over me here, how can I possibly expect to survive show business?"

"You can't."

They fell into a silence. She wanted to ask him about Vocal Adrenaline, and how they were doing and what songs they were doing and did that little poseur really take over her solos, but she knew he couldn't answer any of those questions. Vocal Adrenaline was a tightly sealed vault, with Jesse as their security guard.

There probably weren't many of these little get togethers in their futures.

"Well," came a voice that Rachel vaguely recognized. She looked up and saw that boy, Kurt. "These are absolutely not the actions of someone who is not spying on us."

His sarcastic tone implied otherwise. "What are you talking about?"

Kurt arched an eyebrow as though it should be obvious. The obvious was always lost on Rachel Berry; she was too busy nit picking at the details. "Conferring with the enemy."

Jesse took an overly long drink of his water to hide his smirk.

"Jesse's not _my_ enemy," Rachel insisted. "I've known him since fifth grade—"

"Fourth," Jesse interrupted to correct her. At her confused look, he clarified, "I remember it well, moving was a very traumatic experience for me. I plan on dedicating several chapters of my memoir to it."

She most certainly could relate to _that_.

"Anyway," she continued on, looking at Jesse to make sure she wasn't interrupted again. "I've known Jesse since elementary school, is it any surprise that, after the way you guys welcomed me, I would just go running to my old friends?"

Kurt sighed. She could tell he loved dramatics almost as much as she did. No one loved dramatics as much as she did. "We have a lot of troubles."

"With spies?" Rachel highly doubted that. No one cared about New Directions. Or McKinley, in general. Only cheerleaders did, and Rachel had little to no opinion on them. At Carmel, the cheerleading squad was filled with people who had been rejected from Vocal Adrenaline.

Kurt sort of shook and nodded his head at the same time. "Well, more like trouble with sabotage." He sighed and took a seat at the table beside them. "Coach Sylvester, she's the coach of the Cheerios, hates the Glee club and wants it to be cut."

"Only two hours away, and such a third world country," Jesse remarked, shaking his head. "What has Ohio come to?"

Oh, Jesse didn't even know the half of it. Rachel was starting to fear that she didn't either.

"We were supposed to be cut last year," Kurt continued on as though Jesse hadn't said anything. "But Mr. Shue's friend April Rhodes stepped in and funded us for another year so now we _have_ to place at Regionals this year."

Jesse and Rachel exchanged a look. It was a mix of terror, slight amusement, and confusion. Arts programs were such a huge deal where they lived.

"Well, if you think that I'm at your school, biding my time, waiting for the right moment to join and sabotage Glee," Rachel told him, smoothing down her yoga pants. "You're sadly mistaken. I _wish _that was what I was doing."

He didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Instead, he stood up, glanced over at Jesse and then back at Rachel and said, "We'll talk about it later."

After he left, Jesse burst out into laughter.

"Rachel," he told her. "You're much better than them. Stay out now while you can, you don't want to be known as a leader of a sinking ship."

She bit her lip as she considered it. He was right, of course he was. Jesse had the worst habit of being annoyingly right. But two years was an awful long time to go without show choir.

* * *

><p>Talking about it later apparently meant the next day at lunch. Rachel had barely unwrapped her sandwich, when Kurt sat down across from her. She shrugged and bit into her meal. If he had something to say to her, he would say it.<p>

"I have a question," Kurt began. She wondered if he would want to see copies of her official transfer papers, the deed to the house she lived in now and/or her birth certificate.

She took a sip of water before responding. "Hmm?"

If they wanted Rachel Berry, they were going to have to work for it now.

Kurt leaned forward and looked around quickly before asking, "Did you really get Dave Karofsky in the eyes with hairspray?"

Rachel frowned. "Was that his name?" She shrugged, it didn't matter. Football never did. "He threw an unknown substance in my face, so yes I defended myself with my hairspray." She set down her sandwich. "I can only assume by the causality in which he executed it that it is a regular occurrence around these parts."

Kurt nodded. "I have to keep an extra outfit in my locker for slushie emergencies."

"Why?" Rachel asked, though it wasn't a question of why he would keep an extra outfit in his locker. "Why put up with it?"

"What else could we do?" He looked genuinely confused by this question.

"Spray them with hairspray?" Rachel offered with a tiny shrug. "I can't believe I'm the first to think of fighting back."

"Fighting back makes them bully harder."

Maybe so, but. "Bullies are a lot of talk," Rachel informed him. "If they make a lot of threats and talk a lot about what they're going to do, they probably won't actually do it." This is what her dads told her at least. "They might do little stuff like throwing slushies, but that's because they can. Every time you get slushied and take it, you're just enabling them."

"You could be making yourself a bigger target by fighting back."

Well, Rachel certainly hadn't. Her fathers had threatened the fear of litigation into the school and Karofsky's parents. But she could see her point for children who had parents who didn't love them as much as her dads loved her.

"Is that even possible now?" Because they seemed like pretty big targets already.

He shrugged. There was no answer yet. "What was it like at Carmel?"

Rachel sincerely thought about this for a moment. She had to be careful what she said, she didn't want to make the boy's life even more miserable with the knowledge of how truly wonderful Carmel had been.

"Vocal Adrenaline is the top of the food chain," she said carefully. "But we never bullied anyone else like the jocks and cheerleaders seem to do to you. They seem like they're very insecure. We're not. We never bullied anyone because they were beneath our notice."

"That's…lovely."

It might make them seem stuck up or arrogant, but it was true. They had won two National Championships in a row, what had the rest of their classmates done?

"It is." She continued to eat her sandwich. "So really, even if Vocal Adrenaline wanted to spy on you, and they _don't_ because there's nothing to spy on, I wouldn't be the one volunteering. Do you have any idea what it's like to go from the top to the bottom in the matter of a weekend?"

"No, not at all."

Oh, right she forgot who she was talking to.

She put the remainder of her lunch back into the bag, and leaned forward as she stood up. She was going to impart a very important secret to him.

"It's really awesome at the top. You guys should be nicer to me."


	5. Chapter Four

Jesse couldn't stop staring at Rachel's lips. They were moving rapidly and hadn't stopped in the past forty-five minutes. Back when she attended Carmel, he would have stopped her by now reminding her of vocal preservation, but now he was distracted. This was all Shelby's fault.

This was all Shelby's fault because a.) she had told him that he and Rachel were friends which made him reevaluate what the hell friendship was and his relationship with Rachel, which lead to b.) him studying the art of friendship through movies, television and plays (research, he was not only dedicated but thorough when it came to his roles), which made him conclude that c.) all male and female friendships lead to sex. This had completely cast Rachel in a new light for him because he had never had those thoughts about her. No more than a passing thought at least, quickly pushed away. It was a Vocal Adrenaline rule. No fraternizing, no hooking up, no friends with benefits (no loopholes) with members of your team. That sort of thing just led to in team fighting and excess of emotions that destroyed performances. Plus, Jesse was fairly certain that if they had the freedom to date all the guy-oriented people on the team would be after him, while all the girl-oriented would be after Rachel. That was only inviting chaos. This was confusing enough if Shelby hadn't added the mix d.) informing him that he was to _continue_ friendship with Rachel, and _nothing_ more.

The best way to get Jesse St. James interested in anything is to tell him he couldn't do it. It wasn't a phrase he heard often.

And now that these thoughts were in his head, they were _everywhere_. Like, Jesse had never really noticed before how short the skirts Rachel wore were (and how much of a failure the tights were in an attempt to make them more demure). Once he stopped taking note of _that_, she had asked him to put his hands on her to make sure she was expanding her diaphragm properly for the song she was performing. It was around this time he decided he was stuck in one weird, never ending nightmare where Rachel Berry was suddenly a _girl_. (It would certainly explain some of the events that had occurred recently in his life.)

Jesse knew that it was absolutely some sort of weird, never ending nightmare, when he attempted to focus and caught the tail end of what she had been saying.

"…but I have no gag reflex and…"

"What?" The words slipped out before he could stop them. But, really, _what_?

She stopped and (finally) took a breath. "Have you not been listening to a word I've said?"

Jesse smirked, "Why, yes, Rachel, I do think your performance in the Evita revival would win you a Tony."

Rachel laughed, and shoved at him. "I know it will, but that's not at all what I was saying."

Well, four out of ten times that would have distracted her from whatever she had been talking about.

"Did you say something about Lexie?" He hadn't even been aware if his younger sister was home. He knew his parents weren't home, having to escort his older brother _back_ to rehab. Jesse had just assumed she wasn't home, his sister was never home.

"I said I passed her room on my way to yours," Rachel said slowly, as though that would make him concentrate more on her words though really it just drew more attention to her mouth. "And she was making the most awful noises, and I thought she might be throwing up." Well, yeah. "But I wasn't sure since I don't ever really do that because…"

"You have no gag reflex," Jesse finished for her. Huh, he would not have thought his sister's bulimia (or "weak stomach") the topic of discussion.

"Yeah," she tilted her head slightly to regard him strangely, "What did you think I was talking about?"

"I didn't know Lexie was here," he evaded. "We could have used an extra audience member."

Just because his sister had destroyed any potential she could have had as a vocalist with the abuse she routinely seemed to put her throat through didn't mean she didn't have an ear for music. She actually had a fantastic ear for music; it was actually his favorite thing about his sister.

"I think she left about two songs ago." Rachel informed him. Really? It was so unlike her to be so observant. She pointed to her ear, "I've been having to be aware of the sounds around me, because my new neighbors are not appreciators of the arts and routinely come over to complain about the noise if I rehearse for too long."

"That's fucking terrible." Jesse was fortunate enough to have a soundproof music room. His bedroom was soundproof, as well, so he could perform without worrying about disturbing anyway. "What does Lima have against the arts?"

Rachel sighed, "_Everything_." That was perfectly dramatic enough. She lay back against the headboard of his bed. They should have probably been in his music room. "I think I'm really going to join New Directions."

"Why?" Jesse asked. "It's a waste of your talent."

"I know," though she didn't sound convincing. She would need to work on that. "But so is not performing live at all. And your schedule will be booked soon with nonstop rehearsals."

This was true. But it would make his job a lot easier if Rachel stayed out of the competition. Especially if he got caught by his teammates. Which was ridiculous, as he was only doing what Shelby wanted him to do. There was no way show business politics could outdo show choir politics, so mostly he couldn't wait to graduate because attempting to make it was going to be _relaxing_ compared to high school.

What would a friend say to this? He had seen enough movies, so he should know this.

Jesse reached over and put a hand on Rachel's knee and said, "I will always make time for you, Rachel."

Her reaction was to laugh in his face, so he must not have executed it well. Jesse would make notes on that later. _Work on sincerity_.

"Jesse, please," she stared at his hand that he had yet to remove before refocusing her attention to his face. "I'm not stupid, I know _you_, I know Vocal Adrenaline. When you have free time, you are going to want vocal rest. You have double the responsibility now that I'm gone."

Oh, right. She did have a point. He needed to think these things through more. Jesse wasn't sure what a friend would say to that, because their lives had yet to be captured so well in cinema so instead he just said what advice he would follow in such a situation.

"Do what you have to do."


	6. Chapter Five

"Mr. Schuester," Rachel began after everyone had filed into the choir room for Glee. After a good, long talk between her pride, her ego and the part of her that needed to perform, she finally decided to give New Directions a second chance. Conditionally, of course.

"Good to see you again, Rachel," He responded with a nod of his head.

"I'd like to say something," she announced, moving to the front of the room. "First, I think I deserve an apology." This was met with some eye rolls and murmuring. Well, they certainly weren't helping their case. "Afterwards, I will _properly_ introduce myself and maybe even answer a few questions."

Rachel's favorite thing about this plan was that it was like practice for a press conference.

She was met with silence. For a bunch of alleged outcasts, one would think they'd be friendlier, and welcoming. Finally, the preppy boy stood up.

"Rachel," he said her name and then looked around as though wanting to confirm that was, in fact, her name. She nodded. "As captain of this team," he stepped forward and extended his hand. "Let me say I'm sorry. For, you know, all of us. We just get…back stabbed a lot."

"I see," she said, shaking his hand. She wondered if that was their excuse for such a dismal performance at sectionals the previous year. She refrained from asking. "I graciously accept your apology."

"Uh, thanks." He told her with a shrug, before turning around and sitting back down next to a blonde girl. "I'm Finn, by the way." He pointed to the girl next to him, "This is Quinn." Quinn's gaze flickered up, but she didn't greet her.

The rest of the room went around and introduced themselves. Finn, Quinn, Kurt, Sam, Mercedes, Puck, Lauren, Brittany, Santana, Mike, Tina, and Artie. Okay, she could remember that.

"I have a question," Puck said, not bothering to raise his hand. "Why are you here?"

"Because one of my dad's got a job over here," she responded. "And the better houses are cheaper here than in Akron, because it's Lima."

They didn't really seem to have any questions beyond that. If they were constantly worried about sabotage, no wonder their performances were all over the place. They lacked focus and discipline.

Finally, Artie hesitantly raised his hand. "What's it like to win?"

At this, Rachel smiled. "It's awesome, and you can do it too, if you let me help you."

The cheerleaders rolled their eyes. Well, they obviously didn't get it. Rachel waited another moment, before sitting back down next to Kurt. He smiled at her. This was definitely a better school experience than her first day.

"Thank you Rachel," Mr. Schuester said, retaking his place in front of the students. "I am sure we can benefit greatly from your experience making it to Nationals."

He then delved into asking the students for their heartbreak assignments from before, and since she had nothing prepared, she took advantage of the time to just sit back and observe. She took out her cell phone and tried to make notes without drawing attention to herself.

She had a lot of work ahead of her.

0

It was amazing to Rachel that a third rate show choir could exhaust her more than any of Shelby's Vocal Adrenaline rehearsals ever could. It was just that, Vocal Adrenaline didn't argue. Not that everyone liked each other, or even got along. Rachel was sure that Gisele or Sadie would have _happily_ shoved Rachel out of a moving car on a good day. The only thing that stopped them was that they were teammates. Or had been. She was sure she would never get into a car with them again. Not only were they teammates, but also they had a (begrudging) respect for her voice.

New Directions had no such respect. They thought she was a spy, a show off and bossy as hell. She would cop to two out of three, but that didn't erase her talent and experience. She had worked hard on her talent. She had put in her time, her parents' money and her pride into developing the vocal skills she had had now. Why should she be demeaned and mocked for possessing such talent? Rachel didn't understand it at all.

Show choir had always been a place to celebrate talent, a place to share talent, a place to be motivated to _win_. The club at McKinley hated each other, hated each other's talent, and would rather argue than work towards _anything_. Kurt and Mercedes both wanted solos, except they wanted the _same_ solos. Finn could sing, but did not have the strength or polish to pull off being a lead and also he couldn't dance and she had no idea what to do with that. Sam and Puck were also decent singers and some rhythm and grace but neither radiated the leadership that Finn did possess. Santana proved to be contrary on every corner. Not for any other reason other than to try and create more obstacles for Rachel to overcome. Quinn just seemed exhausted. Lauren and Mike couldn't sing. Brittany and Mike could both dance fantastically though. Tina could sing, but lacked stage presence, and Artie made it awkward to choreograph around.

Rachel had written so many notes her hand had cramped up and she had to log them all into her brain and typed them up when she got home. She was certain she had missed some. She wished there was someone that she talk to this but she knew better than to talk to Jesse. It wasn't that she thought that Jesse would go running to Vocal Adrenaline to tell them of her plans, but if they discovered they still talked then they would make him talk.

Career always came first. Rachel harbored no illusions about either of them or their friendship. There had been a moment the other day. A weird moment. A weirdly charged moment that never really came up before now and she had no idea why it would be coming up now or what it meant. The two of them had always had great musical chemistry.

It wasn't that. It was something…different. It meant nothing. It was just after all this time of not performing or performing with him. Or something. Obviously, Rachel's brain was fried after the past few meetings with New Directions.

"Having an aneurysm will not be a good look for you," Kurt commented to her as he sat down next to her at lunch. He did that now. He still fought her in glee, and was rather paranoid about her stealing his solos. (For good reason, really. That sort of paranoia she understood.) But he was nicer to her than anyone else in the school had tried to be so far. "I mean, I can't say for certain but what I am imagining is just horrific looking."

"New Directions is giving me a migraine," she sighed. She probably shouldn't say that, but it was so true. "I just want to ask one question."

"Hmm?"

She took a too big bite of her salad and needed an extra moment to swallow it down. Rachel had never needed yoga so badly in her life.

"What are any of you doing in glee club?"

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You all hate each other, for one," Rachel pointed out. Not only did they hate each other, but they let it _show_. "You hate the club, for another."

"No we don't."

"Kurt," Rachel said slowly. "You guys don't even have a photo in last years yearbook."

"We decided that it would bring us less ridicule if we went without a photo," he explained. "They get defaced every year."

Rachel shrugged. Being ridiculed by jealous people went hand in hand with stardom. She didn't personally experience it at Carmel but she was aware of its existence. "You guys are embarrassed to be in New Directions." She sighed. "People deface it because you expect them to. Who cares if some future McDonalds' worker draws on a yearbook picture? _You're_ going to be a star."

Kurt laughed and looked down at the table. "I used to say almost the exact same thing before the jocks would throw me in the dumpster. It's just hard to believe sometimes."

"High school is temporary," she pointed out. It was something Jesse had always told her when she started getting too stressed. "Being famous? That's eternal." She propped her chin up on her hand and asked, "You don't want to be so unprepared for stardom after high school, do you?"

"I've never thought about it like that before." Kurt fell silent. She wondered what she would be like had she not had the training, the drive, and the awesome arts program at Carmel for most of her life. "You haven't been slushied since that first time."

Rachel nodded. "I don't let them try." She turned fully towards him, her lunch forgotten. "I've been taking notes on the club, did you want to go over them with me after school?"

Kurt looked slightly terrified by the idea but then relaxed. "Sure. But I'll warn you ahead of time, there's no way Finn will ever learn how to dance."

She sighed, as she collected the remainder of her lunch. "Well there goes items 1 through 5 on my list."

Kurt just laughed in response. He would learn soon enough that Rachel didn't really joke about show choir.


	7. Chapter Six

**Author's Note: **I'm awful at writing these author's notes and I shouldn't be, but I appreciate every single one who reviews or puts it on their favorite and/or alert list. It makes me smile!

Once again, Jesse found himself in the office of the show choir director, instead of his trigonometry class. This wasn't really anything to complain about. He couldn't think of another class that he paid less attention in. However, the circumstances of these meetings were beginning to be somewhat of a nuisance. For starters, he wasn't exactly sure what Shelby was after.

Be friends with Rachel, she had said. Well, okay, that was easy enough. Apparently they were already in some sort of state of friendship, and they had been colleagues for so long they had developed similar routines and it was easy enough to carry that on. Plus, talent liked to surround itself with other talent, and she was obviously lacking options in that department over in Tone Deaf, Ohio. But, other than that, Jesse had no idea of what the end game was supposed to be. Had he been told, "gain Rachel's friendship and destroy New Directions" that would have been easy enough. In fact, he was certain he could accomplish that during a lunch period at school. But, no he had been told to befriend Rachel, and so instead he was vaguely supportive and gave what he was nearly certain could constitute as advice.

"Feet off the desk, St. James," Shelby reprimanded him by way of greeting.

Jesse took his time removing his feet from the top of the desk. He enjoyed testing the limits and knowing he could get away with more than the average person. It was fitting after all, seeing as he was not an average person.

"Coach."

Shelby didn't waste time with pleasantries. She never did. "How is it going?"

"Rachel joined New Directions."

She waited a beat, and then another, before prompting, "And?"

"And," Jesse shrugged. "That's all she told me. She knows better than to discuss such matters with the competition."

She looked less than thrilled with that bit of news. Well, she had been the one to teach Rachel such a lesson. "What exactly do you two do together?"

"Yoga." It's really all that the two could fit into their schedule together.

"Don't you two know how to be teenagers?" Shelby asked.

Well, considering that 80% of his time was dedicated to Vocal Adrenaline and, to a lesser extent, school, was she really _that_ surprised that he and Rachel didn't go to the local soda pop shoppe together or whatever constituted as a normal teenager activity.

"I don't want to use a cliché," Jesse began, leaning forward slightly. "But what exactly is my motivation here?"

"I told you," Shelby said, but she didn't look directly at him. "Befriend Rachel."

"But _why_?"

Yes, he realized that for some weird and bizarre circumstance in life that Rachel was Shelby's biological daughter and he had been burdened with the knowledge. Jesse got that. The details weren't all that important (at least, to him) but he'd like to know exactly what to do with the friendship and this knowledge.

"Because you want to keep getting your solos and to make it to Nationals," Shelby responded matter of factly. "I don't need to explain myself to a teenager, Jesse." Right. "And just keep an eye on New Directions."

Jesse crossed his ankles. "How?"

"Improvise," was Shelby's advice. "And you might want to warn them that yes, we do know when they sneak in and spy on our rehearsals."

Jesse nodded, and stood up to go back to class. It was a start, at least.

* * *

><p>As Shelby had not so subtly hinted, Jesse needed to expand his friendship with Rachel. And by expand their friendship, she meant <em>friendship<em>, as she had explicitly pointed out. He wondered if she knew that such thoughts hadn't really entered in his mind before she had handed the concept to him. To be fair, really though, Rachel and his imagination were doing most of the heavy lifting on this idea. But this mild infatuation was nothing that he couldn't overcome.

So he had stopped by her house one evening after practice had let out. It was a risky move, more than likely, to drive two hours and casually drop by with no prior contact. But if he knew Rachel, especially in this town, it was more than likely she had no plans.

Jesse had arrived shortly before seven, to find that Rachel and her fathers finishing up dinner. He declined their offer of food, but sat with them while Hiram and Leroy made the obligatory small talk and asked him about school, about Akron and about Vocal Adrenaline. Once Rachel had finished her last bite, she had jumped out of her seat and grabbed his hand and pulled him up to her room.

"Jesus, Berry," Jesse said, relaxing against her door after it had shut. "Eager for me?"

The look she threw over her shoulder at him let him know that her thoughts hadn't veered off to the territory that his had.

"_St. James_," she responded, mockingly. "And no, if I hadn't swept you away so quickly we'd be stuck down there forever. My dads love you."

Jesse frowned; he had never really formed any thoughts about her fathers. Outside of the fact that they were Rachel Berry's parents. "They do?"

"Yes," She sat on her bed, and arranged her skirt carefully. "After every performance, after they had finished complimenting me, they would heap endless amount of praise unto you."

"Obviously they are men of good taste," Jesse commented, taking a seat beside.

Rachel tilted her up slightly, "Well, they did raise me."

"I know," Jesse said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That's why I'm so surprised."

She sighed, as if she had been expecting that. "I am going to start ignoring you now." It lasted all of several moments before she opened her mouth to speak again. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed your dads," he retorted. "It was an early practice tonight, so I figured I needed a break from Vocal Adrenaline."

"That doesn't sound like Jesse St. James."

"I'm a very layered individual, Rachel," Jesse informed her as she laughed. "I have _many_ interests and _many_ hobbies."

"I'm sorry," she said, rather insincerely. "I must have missed your stamp collection last time I was at your house."

"Touché," Jesse allowed, reaching over and picking up one of Rachel's stuffed animals on her bed.

Rachel took it from his hands and reset back in its spot on her pillow. Okay then. Silence fell over them and a moment passed. Another moment. "We don't have any other hobbies." A beat. "Are we not well rounded enough?"

"We are where it matters," Jesse said with a shrug. He was sure there were more activities outside the arts that he enjoyed, but Vocal Adrenaline had consumed his life for the past few years that he no longer noticed them. "What is there even to do in this town?"

She bit her lower lip as she considered this. Jesse had several ideas in mind, none of which were good or would fit in the limits of Shelby's definition of friendship.

Finally, "I guess we can go mini golfing?"

Rachel scrunched her nose as she said it, as though she was unsure of what exactly mini golfing was.

Jesse stood up and held out his hand, she hesitated before taking it. "Mini golfing it is. It's been awhile since I've had the opportunity to beat you at something."

Her eyes suddenly sparkled. He knew all he had to do to get her interest was to turn it into a competition. Competing what was they excelled at. It made sense.

Jesse gave it about two holes before they either started singing or started talking about the performing arts again. Too bad there was no one around to take bets on it.


End file.
